


Injured Perspectives

by NernoAredhel



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Brothers, Episode Tag, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, POV Alternating, Post Episode s03e13 S.O.S Part 2, Siblings, post episode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NernoAredhel/pseuds/NernoAredhel
Summary: Everyone’s experiences on what could have possibly been the worst day of their lives.Just throwing my character POVs for SOS Part II into the mix, first up is Alan, but different aspects and moments will be covered in different POVs. I’m aiming to do one for everyone.Warnings for depictions of blood, injury, medical equipment and procedures as well as descriptions of symptoms related to anxiety and PTSD.





	1. Alan

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having a bit of a block with fics lately (but for anyone waiting for an update on my last Jane/Jack Mary Poppins fic - it is coming, promise!) but after watching the episode, I NEEDED to write about it!
> 
> I was away when the episode actually aired, but managed watch on my phone and scribble the chapters for this out between said phone and a notebook, but I’m back with my laptop now, so hopefully I’ll be able to get the rest of the chapters up soon!  
> Also not sure about the title, I’m not great at coming up with titles after the fact!  
> Enjoy (if you can, it’s going to get quite angsty up in here!)
> 
> Warnings for depictions of blood, injury, medical equipment and procedures as well as descriptions of symptoms related to anxiety and PTSD.
> 
> Everyone’s experiences on what could have possibly been the worst day of their lives.

Alan’s mind was unhelpfully playing back every moment, from the emergency code sounding, to the present sound of the sub-pods docking back inside Thunderbird 2.

Scott had already leapt out of his. ‘Secure the pods!’ He called back at Alan.

It seemed trivial for the moment, but Alan was sure the steps out of the sub-pod’s cockpit were further apart, tricking his mind as he reached the bottom, as he faltered expecting another step.

Scott had disappeared up into the main part of the ship. FAB 1 had docked with one of the wing bays moments earlier.

Alan’s stomach was a mess of knots. He had no choice but to secure the sub-pods and complete post-mission checks, but in record time. Under normal circumstances they were supposed to dismantle the modules, returning all parts and bolts to their particular drawers and bays, but Alan simply secured them so they wouldn’t tumble round the pod. As soon as all the lights on the console were green, he sprinted out of the pod, up the maintenance corridor, took the steps of the metal gangway two at a time and bounced off the corridor leading to the med-bay.

He half expected to hear Gordon berating Scott for being a smother hen, whilst simultaneously trying any and all of his best lines on Lady Penelope. Though, as Alan approached the med-bay, there was a terse silence, which made the knots in his stomach spring up into his chest. 

His limbs seized on the threshold of the med-bay, ‘Gor...’ his breath hitched, not only from the speed at which he had ascended through the ship, but at the grim sight laid out before him.

Lady Penelope, her diving helmet still on, was gingerly stroking Gordon’s hair, which was starting to matt with blood along his hairline. 

Scott, his expression set, was setting up the medical scanner. 

Alan was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to move, to do something. He dashed to Gordon’s bedside. He was so still, so un-Gordon like. Dark circles were forming under his eyes and, whether a trick of the light or the frightened imagination of a younger brother, he seemed to be growing paler by the second.

‘Alan, move.’ On the surface, Scott sounded angry, but the anguish laced through his voice was plain for all to hear. 

Alan had not even been aware that Scott had started the medical scan and staggered back out of the way, the movement feeling unnatural, as though his legs were not his own.

‘Scott?’ Penny’s hand was still on Gordon’s forehead. 

‘Still scanning.’ Scott’s eyes didn’t leave Gordon as he swept the instrument over the length of his younger brother’s body, the concentration on his face thinly masking a swelling fear. 

A triple chime indicated the scan was complete. Alan watched as holo-monitors flicked into life above Gordon, carrying with them so many exclamations and warnings that the overlapping sounds made Alan feel momentarily dizzy.

‘Tracy Island, confirm readings.’ Scott’s composure was staring to slip. 

Virgil had appeared somewhere behind Alan, ‘I can have him back to the island in ten minutes if I have to.’ His voice trailed as he took in the readings flashing above Gordon’s motionless body. 

‘Forget the island,’ their Grandma’s voice crackled through the comms, ‘you need to get that boy to a hospital, now!’ Her voice rarely faltered in the way it did in that moment. 

Alan felt as though he was watching everything through a tunnel, everything was distant but somehow magnified at the same time. The movement around him increased as did the roar from Thunderbird 2’s engines. 

‘John!’ Scott called into his comms. 

‘On it, there’s a GDF medical facility not far from your position, I’m alerting them now.’ John’s tone was clipped with focus.

The words floated around Alan, incomprehensible bubbles which, try as he might to grasp them, burst on impact.

Scott had disappeared, Alan hadn’t seen where he went, but Virgil was there with an IV pack, so Alan could only assume Scott was piloting the ship.

He had no recollection of it, but at some point Alan had approached Gordon and taken his hand, which, though understandable, was blocking Virgil from getting to Gordon’s arm. 

‘Alan. Alan?’ 

There was a hand on his back and in a whiplash moment, Alan’s awareness burst from the shroud it had been sinking in to and the world was real once more.

‘Alan.’ It was Penny, her voice, her hand on his back. ‘Come now, Virgil just needs to put an IV in.’ Penny’s ability to keep a sense of composure and decorum, in even the most dire of situations, would be something Alan would admire her for when he reflected back on the day. 

He nodded slowly and stepped back, letting Gordon’s hand slip from his grasp, his palm felt cold from the sudden disconnect and the collar of his uniform itched.

Alan watched Virgil snip away Gordon’s suit at the elbow and expertly slip the line into a vein and hook up the bag of clear fluid. 

‘Alan,’ Virgil called his younger brother over to him. 

Eager to be near Gordon, Alan zipped back to his bedside.

‘I need you to keep an eye on those numbers and let me know if they...’ Virgil was cut off by a whirring alarm and a flash display pulsing on a diagram of a lung. 

‘Shit.’ Virgil dashed to the supply cupboard and emerged with a length of tube, some gloves and a scalpel. 

Alan felt a thudding in his ears as Gordon’s minimal breathing turned to short rasps. 

‘Virgil?’

‘What is it? What’s happening?’

Both Alan and Penny questioned Virgil as he started to cut through Gordon’s suit again, this time around his ribs.

‘His lung has collapsed, I need to try and rebalance the pressure before he suffocates.’ Virgil’s gruff tone was pure concentration as he slipped off his suit gloves and pulled on the surgical ones. ‘Get back!’ 

Alan felt a tug on his shoulder, nearly colliding with Penny as she pulled him back out of the way again.

Alan could feel Penny’s breathing speed up behind him.

‘Scott, how long till we get there?’ She called into the cockpit. 

‘Just a couple of minutes.’ Scott sounded like he was physically pushing the ship to go faster.

This time, the world remained catastrophically real for Alan. Blood peeled from Gordon’s side as Virgil made the incision, the pulsating holo-displays cruelly dancing on the scalpel’s surface.

Alarms were still blaring as Virgil guided the tube into Gordon’s chest. 

‘Alan! I need you to come here and hold this.’ 

Alan returned to Gordon’s side. The swinging motion of stepping towards and back from the bed reminded him of a section in Cavern Quest, where you had to dodge rock pendulums in order to retrieve a health boost. Gordon had beaten it quite easily the last time they had played. 

Alan pushed the game, ‘last times’ and the taste of bile from his mind. He followed Virgil’s guidance and delicately held the thin plastic tube in place.

‘Okay, good, just press your fingers around it like this.’ Virgil’s tone had lowered, but was no less desperate.

Alan pressed down as instructed, he kept his eyes on the tube and his fingers pressing the flesh around it, his mind desperately trying to separate the image of the tube from that of his brother.

A falling sensation gripped Alan as he kept his eyes fixed on the tube, for a choked moment, he thought he was fainting, but as the floor remained at the appropriate distance, what was left of his logic concluded they were descending, landing. 

There was a soft jolt as the behemoth touched down.

The med-bay was suddenly flooded with light as a host of doctors and nurses in surgical scrubs flooded in. 

‘We’ll take that now.’ The tube was taken from Alan’s grip as they transferred Gordon to a hover gurney. Alan’s back hit the wall as Gordon was removed from Thunderbird 2 amongst shouted instructions and stats readings. 

Penny, who had now removed her helmet, wrapped an arm around Alan, guiding him down the ramp and into the entrance of the GDF medical facility.

Alan caught a glimpse of blue and green ahead of him, wondering how Scott had already managed to leave the cockpit and get ahead of them. 

As they crossed from brilliant sun to pale and clinical, Alan felt as though something behind his eyes was spinning.


	2. Scott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I ended up writing Scott and John's POVs simultaneously, but realised that Scott's would need to come first in order for some elements of John's to make sense - so John's POV will be up soon.  
> I think these are going to waver between POVs and what happened when they got to the hospital.
> 
> Obligatory warnings for depictions of blood, injury, medical equipment and procedures as well as descriptions of symptoms related to anxiety and PTSD. (Overall warning, not necessarily all chapters.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the views / kudos so far! I seriously love this fandom and the fics that come out of it, so I hope my little contribution lives up to it all!

The roll out down Thunderbird Two’s runway took forever. 

“John?” Scott was almost hesitant in asking for an update. 

“Still nothing.” John sounded frustrated. His eyes were fixed on something to his left.

Scott could see him swiping and tapping at a display beyond the scope of the holo-emitter.

“I’ll let you know.” John’s hologram blinked out. 

Scott exchanged a determined look with Virgil. They were going to bring their brother home, although there was an element of uncertainty as to what that meant, though they tried their best to mask their anxiety from Alan, sitting directly behind them. 

The minutes dripped by as they soared over the ocean. 

“Alan, go start assembling the sub-pods, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Alan quickly jumped up and disappeared from the cockpit, no doubt eager for something to do, as they all were. 

“Penny’s here.” Virgil nodded out the window, Scott’s gaze followed his and landed on the minute form of FAB 1, aligning itself with them. 

Scott flicked his comm. “Thanks for coming.” He was surprised at the calmness of his own voice. 

“Don’t mention it.” Penny’s hologram blinked into life before him, a stern expression creasing her porcelain features. “Any news?”

Scott shook his head, he could not bring himself to say aloud that Gordon was unreachable and unresponsive. 

She bit her lip and nodded curtly. “Well, whatever you need, we’re here.”

There was a lingering moment, their holograms floating silently before one another.

“We’re assembling the sub-pods now, well, Alan is, I better go see how he’s getting on.” 

“FAB” Her communicator flicked off. 

Scott stared at the console where her hologram had been. He didn’t think he had ever seen Penny so rattled, apart from maybe after their father’s crash. He tried to gather himself. As he stood, he was nearly pulled back down by his own grip on the armrests. His fingers clicked as he subtly shook them out.

Scot felt Virgil glance in his direction, but left the cockpit without returning it or saying a word. 

On his way down to the pod, a new fury started to throb through Scott. The Chaos Crew had fired missiles at his little brother, purposefully meant to harm, or worse. His fists sprung back into a clench as he rounded into the pod hanger. 

Mechanical arms whirred as parts were bolted into place. 

“They’re not finished yet?” Scott’s voice was raised and not just to compensate for the construction noise. 

Alan appeared from behind a console on his left, “I had to fit the pressurising tanks first, which took a few minutes. It shouldn’t be too much longer.” He disappeared behind the console again.

“Ugh, this is taking too long.” Scott’s fist collided with the pod wall.

Alan appeared again, flicking a couple of switches on the assembly array. “Almost there.” 

If the adrenaline and red haze coursing through and over Scott had not narrowed his focus, he may have registered the crackling fear in the voice and expression of his youngest brother.

“We’re here.” Virgil’s voice echoed over the comms.

Scott clipped on his helmet just as the last bolt was screwed into place. “Finally.” He made use of his long limbs and skipped most of the steps up to the sub-pod, hauling himself up and in, slamming the sliding panel shut over his head.

Scott glanced across at the cockpit of the identical sub-pod, Alan was in, they could go. “Virgil, deploy!” The pod dropped, sending every sensation already rattling through Scott’s body into a whirlwind as it hit the ocean and the bay door opened. He flicked his comm, “Penny, depending on how much debris there is, we might need a third hand to retr-“ he caught the word, although somewhat redundantly. “To get him out.”

“FAB, standing by. Parker, dive mode now!” She flicked away as they descended into the depths.

********

The scene underwater had been worse than anything his mind had threatened to conjure on the way there. Thunderbird 4’s mangled remains protruding from under the chimney was an image he would never be rid of, along with Penny pulling Gordon’s limp form from the wreckage.

Scott’s boots thudded down on the floor of Thunderbird 2’s pod, sending an echo rattling through the metal surrounds. He had to get to Gordon. “Alan, secure the pods!”

Scott flew through the ship, cursing as he clipped his shoulder rounding a corner. 

Virgil, with help from Parker and Lady Penelope, already had Gordon strapped to one of their evac-stretchers, ready to take him to the med-bay. It hovered innocently beside FAB 1.

Scott’s gaze flicked across Gordon, if it wasn’t for the tendril of blood snaking its way down Gordon’s forehead, he could well have been sleeping, but Scott’s brotherly instincts picked away at his gut, pulling the threads of his already frayed nerves.

“Scott, I need you to set up the medical scanner so I can get us moving.”

Scott’s internal terror was momentarily suspended in its nosedive by Virgil’s instructions. He shook himself back into the moment. “Right.” His voice felt caught inside him somewhere, he wasn’t even sure he had spoken aloud, but he ran ahead to the med-bay.

After the stretcher had been secured and Virgil had made for the cockpit, Scott unclamped the restraints and, his hands trembling, began the scan.

********

“Come on, come on, move!” Scott gripped the thrust controls of Thunderbird 2, as though force on the lever alone would increase the capacity of the engines. 

He had heard the new medical alarm blaring, his ribcage was concrete as he tried to focus on getting them to the hospital. Virgil knew what he was doing, Gordon would be okay. It was a hollow sentiment centred in the ever growing chasm in his gut.

“Scott, how long till we get there?” It was Penny, a rush in her voice.

“Just a couple of minutes!” Scott could see the GDF facility in the distance.

******** 

After a fraught two minutes, they were on the ground. Thunderbird 2 had barely powered down when Scott swung out of the pilot seat and joined the tail end of the trail of doctors and nurses that were rushing Gordon into a low grey building.

He caught up with Virgil and caught sight of the tube sticking out of Gordon’s chest. A burning sensation prickled at the back of Scott’s throat. “What happened?” He caught Virgil’s arm.

“His lung collapsed, probably from a broken rib. We just managed to bring the pressure back under control when we landed.” Virgil was in full medic mode, but there was something missing from his voice.

The sun’s warmth seemed cruel as they crossed the tarmac, Scott was almost grateful for the cold fluorescence of the lights inside.

The stretcher rounded a corner, Scott and Virgil tried to follow.

“I’m sorry,” A woman in tortoise shell glasses and a white jumpsuit stopped them. “Medical personnel only beyond this point.” 

Their sudden descent was still rippling through Scott, he felt as though he was walking on sand. “No, you don’t understand, he’s our brother, you have to…” 

“Scott.” 

A large hand came into contact with Scott’s chest. 

“They need to assess him, it’s - it’s best to let them.” Virgil, always one for reason no matter the circumstances, gave Scott a stern look, though dappled with understanding for wanting to not leave their brother’s side.

The woman nodded at them sympathetically. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have a more detailed picture of what’s going on.” With a friendly nod, she disappeared behind the doors bearing the restricted access warnings.

Scott took in a sharp breath, unaware he had been barely taking any air in.

He caught pink and red crossing into the corridor. Alan and Penny joined them.

“What’s happening?” Penny, her hand absently resting on her chest.

“They’re assessing, they’ll let us know as soon as they do.” Virgil reiterated what they’d been told by the woman in the tortoise shell glasses.

A tightness gripped Scott, a realisation blooming into view. “Grandma, we need to go get her.” Scott turned to leave when Penny grabbed his arm.

“Don’t worry Scott, I’ve already sent Parker to the island. They should be here soon.” She squeezed his arm.

The tightness relinquished a little and he was about to thank her, when he heard fast approaching footsteps. 

Scott swivelled on his feet, possibly a little to quickly, to see John running down the hallway towards them.


	3. John Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wouldn't normally be considered the reckless type, unless one of his brothers was in mortal peril and when cold logic kicks in, John will have to face the consequences from both Scott and Col. Casey, while trying to find Alan, who has disappeared in the hospital somewhere.
> 
> John's POV from SOS Part II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this would have been up a couple of days ago, but for migraine and bit somewhere in the middle that took longer to work out than I'd anticipated.
> 
> This chapter ended up being so long I’ve actually split it into two to balance it out - the idea for this fic started with John’s POV, so I guess that’s why this ended up being the longest one.
> 
> I should also point out here that, while there seems to be discussion/ discrepancies over the age order of the brothers in the 2015 TAG universe, I am sticking to the title sequence / OG age order of Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, Alan. 
> 
> As always, thanks for all the views / kudos so far and I hope you enjoy!

“Gordon, you’ve activated your emergency code.” John had lost Gordon’s comm signal only moments before, just as a couple of projectiles narrowly missed him. This had left John both deeply concerned and confused, if the projectiles had not hit him, what had happened?

The static coming through the emergency radio gripped John in a vice; the comm was active, the signal clear in both directions, but there was no response. “Gordon?”

“John? What’s happened, an emergency code beacon has been activated.” Scott’s face flickered up in front of the red flare on the ocean floor. 

John swallowed, it had been a long time since he had felt nauseous in zero gravity. He had never uttered the words outside of a drill situation before. “Emergency code confirmed, imminent deployment required.”

John could see the panic flare in Scott’s eyes as he commanded Virgil and Alan to move.

“John? John?” EOS broke through John’s transfixion on the pulsing beacon. “I’ve tried re-calibrating, but the sensors cannot completely penetrate the area due to all the mineral deposits in the chimneys.” Her tone was tentative, John’s increased heart rate and respiration would not have gone unnoticed by EOS.

The initial panic was swept under the anti-grav rug as years of training re-aligned neural pathways and an idea clicked into place in John’s mind. “Then we’ll just have to boost our output.” He momentarily flicked half of the Earth’s display to an orbital view. “That one ought to do it.” He zoomed in on another nearby satellite and pulled up its schematics.

 

“John?” Scott’s voice sounded hesitant.

John noted the green icon on the earth-side display, Thunderbird 2 was just about to take off. “Still nothing.” His mind was in orbit, approximately eighty kilometres to starboard. _I don’t think so_ , John swiped and pinged the holo-display in front of him. He glanced back at the red dot on the ocean floor. “I’ll let you know.” He flicked Scott away. _Almost there._

“John, that system is not ours.” EOS’s informative tone was edged with nervousness. 

“That doesn’t matter right now EOS.” _There._ He was in. “EOS, link and re-calibrate sensors and focus on the emergency beacon.”

“FAB John.” The visual display of the link blinked into life, one end reading ‘IR’, the other ‘GDF’.

 

********

 

_That boy needs a hospital, NOW._ John had heard it all unfold and felt every one of the two-hundred and fifty three miles of atmosphere and empty space separating him from his siblings. 

“John!”

“On it, there’s a GDF medical facility not far from your position, I’m alerting them now.” Stress only added to John’s level of organisation and preparedness. He selected the nearest medical facility from the list already hovering in front of him.

“This is International Rescue, code 7601, medical emergency incoming to your location, connecting live medical scan.” 

“This is GDF Facility Theta,” a woman in tortoise shell glasses flicked up in front of him. “Message received and confirmed, we are standing by.”

John slaved the medical read outs from Thunderbird 2’s med-bay straight to the GDF facility. “EOS, move us over the facility and prep the space elevator, I’m going.” He was already half way to the airlock, his helmet on, when he heard a commotion on the comms: Gordon’s lung had collapsed.

 

********

 

The override controls on the thrusters for the space elevator were not supposed to be operated during descent, but EOS had given up warning John after the fourth attempt. Two thirds of the way through the atmosphere and they were nearly at breaking point.

The only thing stopping John from already being on his feet was the safety protocol in the space elevator that didn’t release the restraints until it had fully touched down, which both fortunately and unfortunately for John, could not be overridden. Once the clamp was sure it had made contact with the ground, the restraints released and John was up and ducking though the not yet fully opened door. 

If his thought processes hadn’t have been firing in a crosswind of worry, John would have remembered why lowering and exiting the space elevator in such a hurry was a bad idea. The pressure headache snapped against his eyelids and he swayed against the outer hull of the space elevator momentarily. He yanked off his helmet as something threatened to crawl up his throat, but a couple of deep earth-air breaths and he managed to swallow it. 

“EOS, retract the space elevator.” John would stay until Gordon was definitely safe, no matter how long that took. Though he checked for any air traffic in the area, there was every chance he was obstructing a flight path.

“FAB John, retracting now.” 

John made sure he stood well back, it was one thing to push the thrusters to their limit, it was quite another being in their direct firing line.

The space elevator’s thrusters burst into life and it disappeared into the atmosphere as John entered the low grey building.

 

Every hurried step sent a dull wave of pain through the back of his eyes and reverberating around his temples. 

It didn’t take John long to find them He could hear Scott’s voice and, he thought, Penny’s. He ran in their direction and soon enough he could see them all hovering in front of a set of ‘restricted access’ doors. 

“Don’t worry Scott, I’ve already sent Parker to the island. They should be here soon.”

“John.” Scott almost sounded surprised to see him.

“I had a comms blackout on re-entry, what’s going on?” Evidently overriding the thrusters had an adverse affect on communications when burning through the upper atmosphere, he made a mental note to mention it to Brains at some point.

“They’re assessing him now, they said they’ll let us know.” 

John noted the deflation in Virgil’s voice.

Suddenly, the corridor felt as though it would sway violently out from under him. John pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes momentarily, trying to focus his equilibrium back to centre.

“John? Are you alright?” Penny’s hand was on his shoulder.

“Yeah, fine, just gravity.” He vaguely waved his hand indicating the invisible force currently crushing his temples.

Penny gave his arm a squeeze and meandered back towards the doors that would only part for medical personnel.

Virgil, knowing his older brother all too well, silently passed him painkillers from a pouch on his belt.

“Thanks.” John gratefully swallowed them without any liquid assistance and took a deep breath. “It sounded pretty rough when my comms broke off.” 

“Yeah,” Virgil’s arms were half crossed protectively across his chest. “We just about rebalanced the pressure as we landed, thanks to Alan holding the tube so steady.”

John leant back against the wall, his hands overlapped at the base of his spine, taking everything in while the painkillers slowly numbed the splintering cracks of the headache, though they did nothing to ease the constricted churning of his stomach.

Penny’s communicator bleeped quietly and she excused herself as Parker’s image appeared within the silver compact.

John had many years of experience of brotherly confrontations to the point where, if he believed in such things, he would swear he could telepathically tell when one was about to happen and, sure enough, as he hauled his head back upright from leaning against the wall, Scott’s eyes were boring into him.

“Twenty minutes.” Scott’s utterance was more escaped thought than statement.

“What?”

“It takes twenty minutes for the space elevator to descend safely and by my estimates, you did it in less than fifteen.” Scott’s voice was teetering.

“Fifteen minutes and twenty seconds, actually.” John let his head dip back against the wall.

“Jesus John, there’s a reason you’re not supposed to override the safety protocols, you could do some real damage.”

“EOS retracted it back, it’s fine.” John was still staring at the ceiling, though he could feel a red prickle around his collar. Scott would never tolerate being told how to fly Thunderbird One.

“I meant to you. You’re already paler than you normally are, I don’t need you being that reckless right now.”

John’s jaw tensed and he snapped his head up so fast the ceiling and the walls momentarily blended. “Reckless? _You_ want to talk about being reckless? Do you want me to start chronologically or alphabetically with every time you’ve thrown the rule book out the window?” John’s voice was low, which to anyone who knew him, was a warning sign that the slow burn of his temper was about to erupt.

“There’s a difference between risking your life on a rescue to save others and being reckless unnecessarily.” Scott’s voice straining between field commander and older brother.

“Unnecessarily?!” John could feel the flush in his face spread to the backs of his ears, the throbbing behind his eyes returned with a vengeance. “In case you hadn’t noticed, _this_ was a rescue — Gordon was dying, what did you expect me to do?” 

“Not end up in there with him!” The strained composure was gone and the volume control with it.

“Look, I get it, you’re pissed, but if you could try not to take it out on everyone in the vicinity, that’d be great!” John’s tone was a neon glow of sarcasm.

“Boys!” 

If vocal cords had emergency brakes, John and Scott would have had sore throats for a week.

Their Grandmother’s voice punctured the air. Penny and Parker flanked her as she joined them in the cramped hallway.

The glare between John and Scott lingered.

“Now, I don’t know what this is all about, but it stops now. Your brother is badly hurt in there and the last thing he needs is for you all to start falling out.” Her voice was granite, hard and unyielding.

Their glare was broken, both of them had their eyes on the floor. A sludge of guilt wrapped itself around John.

“Sorry Grandma.”

“Sorry Grandma.” 

It wasn’t quite in unison, but at least it was audible.

“Well, it’s a start.” 

“Hey, guys.” Virgil piped up from the corner. “Where’s Alan?”

The guilt toppled into alertness as John flicked his gaze around the immediate area, noting Scott doing the same. 

“We didn’t pass him on our way in.” A frown crinkled Penny’s brow.

John brought up the holo-projector on his wrist. “EOS, locate Alan.” 

“His comms are disabled, but I have triangulated his most likely location.” 

A red dot flicked up with a layout of the corridor system of the hospital wing. 

“Good enough.”

“John, why don’t you go and find Alan, we’ll wait here for any news.” Grandma Tracy’s suggestion was not argued with.


	4. John Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wouldn't normally be considered the reckless type, unless one of his brothers was in mortal peril and when cold logic kicks in, John will have to face the consequences from both Scott and Col. Casey, while trying to find Alan, who has disappeared in the hospital somewhere.
> 
> Part II of John's POV from SOS Part II.

John purposefully strode down the clinically blank hallway in the direction of Alan’s signal. As he got closer to the red dot on his holo-display, he started glancing into any rooms he passed. 

He almost walked past the doors marked ‘Dispatch Briefing Room’, but stopped as his brain registered a flash of red in his peripherals. He took a few steps back and looked through the glass panel in the door. Some part of him shattered when he saw Alan, curled up in a chair, his arms wrapped round his knees and his chin resting between them, staring into nothing.

John flicked off the now redundant holo-display. He momentarily hesitated before contacting the others. “I’ve found him.” He spoke quietly into his comm, although there was a door between them, he didn’t want to startle Alan.

John could hear the sighs of relief from Scott and Virgil over the comms, before the mirrored inquisitions started.

“Is he okay?”

“Where is he?”

There was a background throb in John’s temples as let them know where he was, but advised them against joining him right away. “Just give me a minute.” 

“What’s wrong?” Scott’s tone was brash again.

“Just,” The temptation to snap back at Scott was extinguished as he glanced at Alan again through the door. “Give me a minute.”

“FAB John.” Virgil replied. 

John hoped Virgil would be able to keep Scott at bay for at least a few minutes.

He pushed the door open slowly. Alan’s gaze didn’t shift.

“Hey kiddo.” John gently sat down beside Alan, the child in him painfully evident. 

While John often came across as more logic than emotion, it wasn’t the case. In a way, he felt more deeply than most, but he was more careful who he expressed himself to, and when. He placed his hand lightly between Alan’s shoulder blades. 

It was then John noticed the smudged bloodstains on Alan’s gloves. Gordon’s blood.

John felt the gravity of the earth anew.

“I got in the way.” Alan’s voice was broken and barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“I got in the way. I-I didn’t do the pods fast enough.” Alan’s voice was disjointed between thought and speech.

“Alan, I’m sure you didn’t…” 

“I did. I kept getting in the way.” There was a painful pause. 

John was three quarters of the way to formulating a response when Alan looked up at him for the first time since he entered the room.

“Is — is he going to die because of me?”

What had shattered in John before, fully collapsed at the hollow horror in his younger brother’s eyes. It took John a moment to gather himself. “Alan, none of this is your fault, _none_ of it.” He swallowed a stab of emotion that threatened to break his voice. “I was listening the whole time, you helped get him out and Virgil told me what a great job you did, you helped save…” He wished he hadn’t started that last part, stopping in the middle of it was far worse; technically they didn’t know if Gordon had been saved yet.

Tears started to flow from Alan’s eyes and choking sobs racked through his body as he buried his face in his knees, still clutched tightly to his chest.

John wrapped his arm around Alan’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Shhhh. It’s okay, it’ll be okay.” John wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, himself or Alan. He stroked the side of his little brother’s head, every child-like sob cutting through him.

John heard footsteps clattering down the hallway and could see two figures in blue on the other side of the glass, but they remained diligently in the hallway. John suspected Virgil had something to do with Scott not bursting through the door.

John discreetly held up his hand to them, signalling them to wait a moment.

Alan’s sobs had slowed to intermittent sniffs.

“Hey Allie,” John gently brushed the streaks of tears from his brother’s face. “I just need to go speak to Scott and Virgil, you okay for a sec?” 

Alan nodded, dropping his feet to the floor and pressing his hands into the seat either side of him, straightening himself.

John stood and met both Scott and Virgil’s concerned gazes through the glass. 

Scott looked so sick with worry, John thought he might go grey on the spot.

John silently swung open the door and stepped through, putting his finger to his lips until he was sure the door was closed behind him.

“Is he ok?” Scott’s voice was uncharacteristically low and jarred with his expression.

“Are you?” John’s response was mostly rhetorical, but even he was surprised by the harshness of his tone. “Sorry.” He pinched the bridge of his nose again, though the gravity headache had diminished, the after image of it lingered. John shook any remaining pain away, filing it for later and purposefully kept his voice low. “He’s got it into his head that this is somehow his fault.”

“What?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Obviously.” John glanced back into the room, where Alan was staring at the floor. “He said he kept getting in the way and that he didn’t have to pods ready fast enough.”

There was a moment of silence, broken by Scott cursing under his breath.

Scott’s fingers ran across his forehead, revealing a pained expression.

A tautness sprung around John’s forehead, he felt his jaw tense as it had before. “What did you say to him?”

Before Scott could reply, Virgil quietly interrupted. “I think I’ll go and sit with Alan, he shouldn’t be on his own.” He disappeared through the door, raising his eyebrows at the pair of them, a silent command to sort this out before coming in.

“I was so angry when I got down to the pod and I was so scared doing the medical scan, I…”

“Took it out on whoever was in the vicinity.” John had crossed his arms, wishing that Scott would learn to think before he spoke, but the anguish and guilt spreading through Scott’s posture dampened any fire that was growing inside John. 

Scott was in as much pain as any of them were, having one brother hurt was enough of a weight, but Scott thinking he’d hurt one of them himself was just as gut wrenching, if not more so. 

“Look,” John dropped his arms and made a conscious effort to loosen his shoulders, “whatever happened, what matters now is that Alan needs us, we all need each other.” Tactile comfort wasn’t John’s forté, but he placed his hand on Scott’s arm and conveyed, what he hoped, amounted to a look of assurance, forgiveness and sympathy.

Scott squared his shoulders, nodding at John. 

John returned the gesture and held open the door. Whatever he was expecting to happen, it probably wasn’t Alan jumping up and dashing to Scott in a frantic hug.

Their youngest brother’s face was screwed up in sobs again as Scott lifted him fully of the ground.

John could just about hear Scott repeating over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” his hand on the back of Alan’s head as the youngest buried his face in Scott’s shoulder, clinging tight to his eldest brother.

Gravitational pressure lessened on John and he flicked a thankful glance to Virgil, who returned a lopsided smile, his eyes glistening a little.

 

********

 

The four of them returned to where the others were still waiting vigilantly. Alan was still noticeably clinging to Scott, only breaking off when he caught sight of their grandmother. 

They all swamped her in a group hug, just as the woman in the tortoise shell glasses appeared through the double doors.

John was the first to notice her and tapped Scott on the arm. The two taller brothers breaking off alerted the rest to the woman’s presence. The dull thumping behind John’s eyes returned as his heart rate dramatically increased.

“Well,” she held a tablet display in front of her and adjusted her glasses. “We had to perform minor surgery on the collapsed lung, he sustained some nasty injuries, mostly broken bones, but nothing we can’t handle and nothing that won’t heal with time.” She lowered the tablet and a smile broke across her lips. 

The relief between those gathered in the hallway was audible and John felt the corridor sway again, though this time it was relief propelling his equilibrium. 

“Can we see him?” A spark of Alan’s usual tone had crept back into his voice.

“He’s still out from the surgery I’m afraid and we’ll need to keep him in for a few days to monitor the head injury, but scans so far indicate a mild concussion. It’ll be a couple of hours before he’s out of recovery, but as soon as he is, you can see him.” She gave them a small nod and disappeared back behind the restricted access doors.

Baited silence shifted to animated discussion as Parker offered to go in search of coffee and other refreshments that they no doubt were all in need of. As he disappeared down an adjacent corridor, a voice boomed down the hallway towards them.

“John Glenn Tracy!” 

John felt his neck and shoulders stiffen at the voice. He need not have swivelled round to know Colonel Casey was the source of his full name barreling down the corridor at him. “Oh, hell.” There were few things aside from one of his brothers being in mortal peril that could strike real fear into John, an angry grandmother was one, an angry godmother was another.

“What did you do?” Scott’s voice was filled with a fearful awe.

John scrunched up his eyes for a moment, almost not wanting to look Scott in the face as he confessed. “I may have hijacked a GDF satellite to boost my scanning output.” He kept his voice low, on the off chance that wasn’t the reason Col. Casey had yelled his name specifically.

“You did what?” Scott was about to stray back into lecture territory, but didn’t get the chance.

“A word with you Mr. Tracy.” Col. Casey’s voice was as clear as Ursa Major from Thunderbird 5’s gravity ring.

“Well, this should be fun.” John started to wonder whether he would end up in the infirmary with Gordon after all.

As John approached her, Col. Casey gestured him into an empty patient room and slammed the door behind them.

“While I don’t have complete jurisdiction over you in a professional capacity, I have plenty of jurisdiction as your godmother and if I ever catch you pulling a stunt like that again without warning and without authorisation, there’ll be no planet you can hide on, understand?”

A power surge of emotion swelled in John again. “Gordon was dying!” He surprised himself with the volume of his own voice, the reverberations rattling through the metallic medical equipment in the room.

Col. Casey pointedly allowed the reverberations to cease before continuing. “I know,” Her voice remained controlled. “And if you had informed me of the situation I would have given every assistance, but instead I get a warning from the World Council that we might be under attack! Just because you’re operating in space does not mean you are above everyone else and the law, in any situation, do I make myself clear?”

John swallowed his response.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am.” John’s voice had reduced to a trickle.

“You’re lucky I managed to sum it up as a training exercise that went too far, otherwise the World Council would have come down on International Rescue harder and faster than an uncontrolled descent from orbit. Not even Lady Penelope could have got you out of that one.”

Guilt clogged John’s gut once more.

“Look, John, I know you, I know how that mind of yours works. Quickest and most logical solution, sometimes without consideration of consequences.”

John moved to object, but Col. Casey held up her hand.

“I know you were trying to help save Gordon, and to be honest if I was in your place I probably would have done the same thing, although you never heard me say that.” A wry flash crossed her expression. 

The corner of John’s mouth tugged at her admission.

“But you nearly started your own Wargames today and,” Her expression was set again as she paused, considering him. “I’m going to need to confiscate all information regarding said satellite and data and programmes used in the breach from Thunderbird 5’s computer systems.”

“What? But that would mean exposing EOS and you know what will happen if they get their hands on her.” A new fear gripped John at the thought of EOS being exploited.

“John, I don’t _want_ to do this, but there are protocols, expectations in situations like this. It won’t go any further than me.” Her tone was solid. “The World Council isn’t aware of EOS, or certainly not in her full capacity, but you pull a stunt like that again and I may not be able to stop them seizing Thunderbird 5 along with you _and_ EOS.” 

The threat to EOS almost cut deeper than the threat to John’s beloved space station. He filed away another mental note to shore up EOS’s systems, so that, even if they came looking for her, they would never be exactly sure where her programming existed. “Understood.” 

Col. Casey held the door open for him, “You better get back before they think I’ve arrested you or something.” 

That was definitely his godmother speaking. John gratefully left the room and walked as quickly as possible back to his family.


	5. Virgil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Virgil's nerves of steel can be frayed by the prospect of a brother in mortal danger - can he hold it together, not to mention his family?  
> Virgil's POV from SOS Part II
> 
> Obligatory warnings for depictions of blood, injury, medical equipment and procedures as well as descriptions of symptoms related to anxiety and PTSD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I really did not intend to leave this nearly nine months without an update - so sorry to people who have been kind enough to read / comment / leave kudos and have been waiting for so long!
> 
> I feel like the more POVs I do, the harder it gets to keep track of them all (also realised I haven't really written a Virgil POV before!), plus, as always, life and uni work always seem to get in the way but, as it looks like I'm going to be at home for the foreseeable future, along with most of us I'd imagine, I have finally have an excuse and the time to get on with my many WIPs (published and unpublished).
> 
> I hope you all are staying safe and well in these bizarre times and that, if you're reading this, it gives you that little break from reality that I think we're all going to need more of over the coming months.

_‘Virgil, deploy!’_

_Bleep_

_‘Man, this is a lot worse than I thought….’_

_Bleep_

_‘FAB Mister Virgil, sir. G-huiding FAB One in now.’_

_Bleep_

_‘Forget the island, you need to get that boy to a hospital, now!’_

‘John!’

‘On it, there’s a GDF medical facility not far from you, I’m alerting them now.’

Every moment was a collection of stills flipping past Virgil faster than he could register and separating his brother from the medical alarms now reverberating through Thunderbird 2 was a battle and, he was losing. However, Gordon needed medical attention and now was not the time to let the dividers slide from the boxes. ‘Scott, you’ll have to fly us there.’

Scott silently nodded and disappeared to the cockpit.

Virgil felt as though he was wading through molasses, he only now noticed Alan, pale and vacant, clutching Gordon’s hand. Virgil tried to swerve the gut punch of the scene before him, but the technicolour realness of it was embossed into his mind. He closed his eyes against it momentarily and instead focussed on the list building in the part of his brain that remembered his training, the part yet to be consumed by the fog of unrelenting fear. 

_IV, line, needle, scissors._

It wasn’t quite in the right order, but it was a start. He kept repeating it over and over until all of the items were in his hands or on the tray beside the bed. Sweat was building between his palm and the IV bag in his hand. 

‘Hey Allie?’

The youngest failed to move, or apparently register that he was being spoken to.

Virgil flicked a glance at Lady Penelope, the ends of her hair had begun to frizz a little from the contact with her wetsuit. She bit her bottom lip and moved towards Alan.

‘Alan. Alan? Come now, Virgil just need to put an IV in.’ Her voice had a gleam of composure, but it was transparent at best.

Virgil could hear the torrent underneath the surface, the same torrent that was no doubt raging through each of them in turn.

She managed to lead Alan away and Virgil delicately started to cut open Gordon’s uniform at the sleeve. Smatterings of purple were starting to spread outwards from the middle of his forearm. 

_Broken, maybe two places._

Virgil began the second list, injuries. He was determined and if he was honest, desperate, not to miss anything.

The IV line had taken care of one of the alarms, but Gordon’s blog pressure was fluctuating. Knowing Alan would hate being idle as much as any of them would in the current situation, Virgil called him over.

Alan appeared at his side instantly, like a glitch in a video game.

‘Alan, I need you to keep an eye on those numbers and let me know if they…’ The rest of the words tumbled into oblivion as a fresh alarm, accompanied by a pulsing image of a lung, hung in the air in front of him. ‘Shit!’ In automation, he ran to the supply cupboard. Bits of tubing and bandages tumbled through his shaking hands as he fumbled for the correct scalpel, gloves and width of tube.

‘Virgil?’

‘What is it? What’s happening?’

Alan and Penelope’s questions bounced around Virgil.

‘His lung has collapsed, I need to try and rebalance the pressure before he suffocates. Get back!’

Alan and Penelope moved swiftly back.

Virgil had not meant to bark the order at them, but the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears was almost enough to mask the ever increasing roar of Thunderbird Two’s engines. 

The list of injuries had crumbled and the only words doing a loop around his mind were the all too simple instructions for what was to come next. Virgil dug his elbow into his own ribcage to steady himself and, with a silent apology, cut into Gordon’s, whose rasping breaths were slowly cutting through him.

_Incision, tubing, rebalance pressure._

Blood. Dark blood. It ran in slow motion over Virgil’s latex gloves. He realised the internal recitation of the steps were playing to the tune of Nuvole Bianche by Ludovico Einaudi — he had been playing it that morning.

The tubing was next. He slid the clear piping into the slit in Gordon’s chest, but with renewed horror, he realised his hand was still shaking. Virgil needed assistance, preferably from someone with a rock steady grip that stayed that way no matter the situation — fortunately the one person he knew with such qualifications was standing directly behind him.

If there had been time, to consider, to reflect, he may have hesitated in exposing his youngest brother to the sight of Gordon with a tube in his chest or the burden of keeping steady the one thing that was preventing his imminent suffocation, but there was no time and, no one Virgil trusted more.

‘Alan! I need you to come here and hold this.’ The wobble in Virgil’s voice was lost to the alarms still rattling through the medbay.

‘Scott, how long till we get there?’

‘Just a couple of minutes.’

Two minutes. They could do this.

* * * * * * * *

The medbay was swallowed in bright light.

‘We’ve been following the medscan — tell us what happened exactly.’ A woman was suddenly beside Virgil, she had long black hair but her face was obscured by the dots dancing across Virgil’s vision from the abrupt change of brightness in the medbay.

‘His sub was crushed,’ Virgil explained as he started to unclip the evac-stretcher. ‘We pulled him out but he has multiple fractures and a recently collapsed but somewhat stabilised lung. Heart rate is one-twelve, blood pressure is ninety over fifty.’ Acrid bile tickled the back of Virgil’s throat and he swallowed hard.

‘It’s okay, we’ll take that now.’ 

Virgil was aware of another medic and, whether by his own hands or not, he would never be sure, the evac-stretcher was detached and away.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off as he followed the gaggle of doctors and nurses out of the pod and his tongue felt like a terse sponge. 

Scott appeared at his side, his fingers catching Virgil’s elbow.

‘What happened?’ Scott’s voice was a fractured component of itself.

Virgil steadied his voice as best he could, Scott had no doubt surpassed his worry threshold three times over.

‘His lung collapsed, probably from a broken rib. We just managed to get the pressure back under control when we landed.’ The words tumbled from him in a distant, calm automation.

The voices of the medics ahead of them were a mess of stats and instructions.

The sun was searing and Virgil wanted to be out of it, so he was grateful as they entered the low building, the sun burning it to a silhouette; inside the flat, white light sapped the colour from the world.

Scott had started to jog to keep up with the medical team who were blocking Gordon from his sight and Virgil followed suit, partly to try and stop Scott interfering and asking questions.

The swarm, rounded a corner and passed through a set of double doors. Virgil registered the ‘No Unauthorised Access’ sign and knew Scott would ignore it, even if he had seen it.

One of the medics remained on the nearside of the doors, a woman about Virgil’s age. She adjusted her tortoise shell glasses over her pale eyes.

‘I’m sorry, medical personnel only beyond this point.’ Her voice was caring, sympathetic — but there was a minor chord dancing underneath it. Virgil recognised it as the voice that had approached him in the medbay only moments ago. She had a tablet in front of her, no doubt with Gordon’s medical scan details.

Virgil was broken from his musings by Scott who, naturally, tried to argue his way in.

‘No, you don’t understand, he’s our brother, you have to…’

‘Scott.’ Virgil cut him off, his hand landing heavily on Scott’s chest. ‘They need to assess him, it’s — it’s best to let them.’ Virgil tried his best to contort his face into a stern but understanding _you need to cooperate face._

Scott took a resigned step back.

‘We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have a more detailed picture of what’s going on.’ She disappeared behind the door with a sympathetic nod, the exact one that Virgil had honed over the years to reassure those whose situation was not promising. He subtly took a long breath through his nose in a futile effort to calm the hammering in his chest.

* * * * * * * *

The room was crackling. Static tension was prickling through the corridor as Scott questioned the time it had taken for John to go from orbit to earth-side. Between John’s prolific sarcasm and Scott’s smothering, the friction was ready to spark and Virgil was starting to wish he had followed Penny when she had excused herself only moments ago.

He would have to step in soon before John and Scott got too close to each other; he took a deep breath to muster all the power of his deep rooted voice which had brought many sibling squabbles to a screeching halt, but another voice ripped through the air before his was required to.

The relief that washed over him at the sight of his grandmother was like cool sea water on a summer’s day and the breath he had taken in rushed out of him.

‘Now, I don’t know what this is all about, but it stops now. Your brother is badly hurt in there and the last thing he needs is for you all to start falling out.’ His grandmother’s presence was the lightning bolt that dissipated the heavy air in the corridor.

Scott and John apologised and, with one layer of tension stripped from his body, Virgil slid down into one of the clinically white chairs and quietly surveyed his surroundings and was suddenly overwhelmed by a stabbing realisation that someone was missing.

Virgil stood suddenly, pressure rushing to his forehead, and scanned the room again just to be sure. ‘Hey guys, where’s Alan?’

* * * * * * * *

John had left to find Alan less than three minutes ago and Virgil could already feel the kinetic energy radiating from Scott. The eldest was pacing in abrupt squares so fast that Virgil had to keep looking at the floor so as not to lose his balance.

‘You’re going to wear a hole in the floor Scooter.’ It was a feeble attempt to calm his older brother, but Virgil really didn’t have the energy for a more strategic approach, his whole body felt like a wet sandbag.

It stopped Scott from pacing momentarily though, ‘He should have found him by now.’ Scott’s hands were on his hips, fingers tapping his belt. ‘Why did he have to wander off?’ He started pacing again, in triangles this time.

The words Virgil wanted to say, _probably because he hates it when people fight and you and John weren’t helping_ , were, he judged, too jagged for the moment. His wrist comm bleeped, Scott side stepped his next pace and was at Virgil’s side.

‘I’ve found him.’ John’s voice was unusually tentative, even for him.

‘Where is he?’ Scott questioned.

‘Is he okay?’ Virgil tagged on.

‘He’s in one of the briefing rooms, towards the back of the building but,’ John hesitated.

Virgil’s throat tightened.

‘Just give me a minute.’ It was as though he was psyching himself for something.

‘What’s wrong?’ Scott all but barked into the comm.

Virgil clamped his lips shut and wished that his brother would learn some tact one of these days — but in truth, Virgil knew it was the growing concern of having the two youngest out of sight, in an unknown state, that would have been stoking the coals of Scott’s frustration, rather than outright anger.

‘Just, give me a minute.’ John’s staccato signalled a rising temper.

They were not going to argue over the comms while in the same building. ‘FAB John.’ Virgil flaked his comm off before Scott could enquire further.

‘Back of the building…’ Scott muttered under his breath. The kinetic energy emanating from him almost doubled.

‘Hey,’ Virgil looked Scott directly in his ice blue eyes and held his gaze. ‘We are going to wait here a whole two minutes before we go and find them.’ 

 

The two minutes passed at an itchingly slow pace, even for Virgil. He and Scott were now jogging through corridors, the fluorescent lights cast odd grey shadows in the angular building, with the occasional burst of sunlight from intermittent windows assaulting Virgil’s vision.

They were following the pulsing red dot on Virgil’s wrist display — John had pointedly sent the location to him rather than Scott, who was following Virgil with near impossible closeness.

Virgil halted as his own green location beacon overplayed the red one. Through the golden glow spilling from the window of the door to his right, he caught a snapshot that cracked his pounding heart.

He gathered himself just in time to stop Scott bursting through the door. ‘Stop!’ he hissed, not wanting to disturb the haunting silence of the corridor.

John approached, a backlit shadow until he opened the door, his finger pressed to his lips until the door clicked shut behind him.

Virgil let Scott question John, his attention was occupied by the framed scene of Alan, sitting on his hands, head bowed. A mess of upset and guilt swept through him.

‘He’s got it into his head that this is somehow his fault.’ John’s tone was matter of fact, but emotion battled under the surface.

‘That’s ridiculous.’ Virgil snapped away from watching Alan through the window, black spots once again danced over his vision momentarily.

‘Obviously.’ Most of the sarcasm in John’s voice had faded, but there remained a faint afterglow around the edges. ‘He said he kept getting in the way and that he didn’t have the pods ready fast enough.’

Virgil reluctantly began to replay the day’s events in his mind, but was quickly interrupted by Scott cursing under his breath.

‘What did you say to him?’ John’s low, dark gaze zeroed in on Scott and the tense static fizzed between them once again.

However, they would have to sort themselves out this time. ‘I’ll think I’ll go and sit with Alan, he shouldn’t be on his own.’ He flicked them both a harsh _sort this out, quickly_ look before stepping round John and entering the briefing room.

 

Virgil could see Alan’s eyes flit in his direction momentarily as he entered, but his gaze quickly returned to a fixed point on the polished floor.

Virgil joined him and they sat silently, caught in the thin rays of pale gold light streaming lazily through the narrow windows set high in the wall. The redness of Alan’s cheeks and eyes were painfully evident.

‘Hey kiddo.’ 

‘Hey.’ Alan croaked, his legs slowly swinging under him, the soles of his boots whispering against the floor.

Virgil fought the torrent of words that threatened to escape, filtering them into what he knew to be true, ‘You know, I wouldn’t have been able to help Gordon today without you.’

Alan’s feet ceased their clockwork susurrations. ‘Really?’ He shifted in his chair, rubbing the end of his nose with the back of his glove, as he used to with his sleeve when he was little.

‘Sure.’ Virgil hesitated for a moment before revealing why, but this was not a time for fear or obscured perspectives. ‘Do you know why I asked you to hold that tube?’

Alan shook his head, facing Virgil properly for the first time since he entered.

‘Because my hand was shaking too much.’ The adrenaline spiked in him with the admission.

Alan’s eyes widened. ‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, and I knew I needed someone with super steady hands — someone that can fly through an asteroid field single handed, or get through level seventeen of Cavern Quest on the first try.’ Virgil breathed a little easier as the corner of Alan’s mouth tugged upwards a little.

‘Really?’

‘Definitely. We would never have got the pressure under control without you holding the tube so steady.’ Virgil reassuringly nudged Alan’s arm with his elbow, but Alan’s expression suddenly dropped again.

‘But if I’d have finished the pods faster…’

‘Allie.’ Virgil halted the thought in its tracks. He also made a mental note to have a discussion with Scott at some point about positive reinforcement in the workplace but, the last thing he wanted was to make Scott out to be the bad guy, it had not exactly been a routine rescue after all. Virgil considered his words carefully, ‘You know, despite how great a leader and field commander Scott is, he spends a lot of his time being terrified.’ 

‘He does?’

‘Sure. You know how scared you’ve felt today?’

Alan bowed his head with a quick nod.

‘Well, I think, in a way, Scott feels that scared everyday, each time any of us goes out on a mission. He always blames himself, thinks he’s responsible for everything that happens, even things that are beyond his or anyone’s control.’ Virgil made a point of looking at Alan directly for that last observation.

‘But, this isn’t his fault.’ A mix of thoughtful shock and realisation began to cross Alan’s face.

‘Exactly.’ Virgil wrapped his arm around Alan’s narrow shoulders and gently squeezed. 

Alan and Scott were so alike, aside from their ice blue eyes. Virgil had lost count of the looks and expressions that had come from Alan recently, that could have easily been Scott’s only a few years ago.

Virgil could hear the muffle of low voices on the other side of the door before it glided open; Scott entered, followed by John. Virgil noted the guilt ridden expression of the former, but it was quickly obscured by Alan jumping up and leaping at Scott in an embrace, wrapping both of his thin arms around Scott’s neck, burying his blonde head in the the eldest’s shoulder.

Eyes blurring, Virgil found that emotions and sunlight were synced and he had no quarrel with the warm sunlight hitting his back, at least for the moment.


End file.
